"Dick, you're not Bruce, stop acting like him!" screamed Tim as he ripped the black mask off his face and stomped through the cave after a retreating Dick.
"I'm not trying to be Bruce, I'm trying to do what's right." replied Dick calmly as he too removed the bat-like cowl from his head and sat in front of the monitors in the high backed desk chair. Tim stood in front of him now, running his hand over his face and through his disheveled black hair.
"I'm done."
Dick's head whipped up faster than lightning, eyes wide. "What do you mean, done?"
"I'm done with you lying to everyone and thinking that's the right thing to do. Everyone is going insane trying to keep your secrets." His voice rose with trepidation. "Artemis not being dead, M'gann frying Kaldur's brain, oh and the small fact the Bruce is still off world!" Tim turned back around heading for the elevator back up to Wayne Manor. He stopped before his finger hit the up button and turned around. "I'm done with you Dick. I won't patrol with you anymore, I won't ask for help, and I expect the same from you until you can come clean about everything." And with that he pushed the button and disappeared into the open elevator; keeping his eyes fixed on Dick the whole time.
And Tim kept his promise, he didn't call no matter how bad it got. No matter how badly he got the shit kicked out of him, he crawled home bandaged himself up, waited a few nights, and went back out there.
Three months passed before he broke his promise to Dick.
One the fifteenth of October he had finally caught the Joker's scent and was closing in on him, and admittedly that was mistake number one. Mistake number two was not calling up any sort of backup; not Babs for surveillance and not Steph for the extra kick ass he knew she could bring. And that would certainly explain how he ended up in this mess
"Well, well, well, what do we have here; a new little bird for me to kick out of the nest?" A large smile crept over the Jokers white oil painted cover face, his hands crossed behind his purple pinstripe suited body. "Where's the grand 'ol daddy Bat? Not good enough to come here and stop me himself?"
Tim stood in a fighting stance, bo-staff at eye level ready to strike out. From his peripherals he could spy seven masked guys emerging from the shadows of the dark First Gotham Bank. His mind raced thinking of the smartest plan to execute.
"Or has this little bird already flown the coop?" He paused a foot in front of Tim, one hand coming out from behind his back to rest against his pale face. "That's it isn't it, and you know what's so great about that lamb chop?" He looked to the guys surrounding Tim with a growing smirk. "They're just that much easier to break."
He lay in the alley behind the bank unmoving. With his eyes shut he calculated his injuries. Head trauma, broken ribs, possible punctured lung, at least one broken leg and a fractured arm; everything hurt and he knew that if he didn't get help soon he was going to be headed down the same path as the previous Robin.
Tim lifted a heavy hand to press the comm link in his ear and let out a shaky breath.
"Tim?" He tried to respond but couldn't find the strength to form the words. "Tim?!" Dick asked a little bit louder this time.
"Di-" He took in another long breath. "Joker. Bank." Tim could hear rustling on the other side of the link, signaling him that Dick was getting suited up. "Back alley."
"Tim, just hold on okay? I can be there in five minutes tops, just please don't move"
"Wouldn't, dream, of it Dick" Tim lay there, eyes shut, and breath shallow waiting until he heard the telltale sign of Dick's feet hitting the pavement as he ran around the corner in search of his younger brother. He stopped a foot away from him eyeing his crumpled and bloody form; he took that last step and kneeled next to the younger man.
"What were you thinking Tim?" Dick whispered carefully scooping up his battered body; he could hear the sharp intake of breath as pain radiated throughout his brother's body. "I'm sorry."
And that was the last thing Tim heard before he fell into unconsciousness.
Tim lay in his bed at the manor, fully bandaged, with the prognosis coming to: a cracked skull resulting in fifteen stitches, four broken ribs, a fractured wrist –held tightly against his body in a sling- and a broken tibia propped up on pillows. Dick sat next to the bed, a book in his hand, waiting for him to wake up. He constantly looked up from his book eyeing him for any change, but it had already been a week and there hadn't as much as a flutter on an eyelid.
"Dick-" Tim's voice came out at barely over a whisper, his eyes searching the room before falling on Dick's startled form. "What happened?"
Dick looked down at his lap, a hand coming up to massage the back of his neck. "I was a complete ass."
"I was more referring to my current medical status, but thanks for that." Dick let out strangled laugh, still not lifting his eyes to meet Tim's. There was a long pause between them, where the only noise were the shallow breaths still coming from Tim. It was ten minutes before Dick let out a long sigh and lifted his head to meet the younger bird's eyes.
"Okay, well long story short: I was an ass for lying to everyone, you were a complete idiot taking on the Joker by yourself, and the Joker is back in Jail for thinking he could try and take away another one of my brothers." Dick finished with a look of fire behind his eyes and Tim smiled. He opened his mouth once to say something, and then closed it again rethinking his words.
"Can I come back?"
"If you thought you were even leaving this house until you were fully operational again you are sadly mistaken."
"That's not wha-"
"I know what you meant, and of course you can you idiot. And," he looked out the window at the leaves swirling in the wind, "I told the team about Artemis and Kaludr."
"I know, and thanks for the rescue" Dick let out a real laugh and rose to his feet.
"Anytime Tim," and with that Dick left him and walked down to the kitchen to fetch some lunch.